Lars Von Trier is a sad man whose gloom bleeds into his films. My only exposure to Trier’s work has been “Antichrist” and his most recent film “Melancholia.” The first is a dark, twisted antithesis to the Garden of Eden story. The second is a surprisingly beautiful vision of the end of the world. These are films made by a depressed but talented filmmaker.

“Dancer in the Dark” stars Icelandic singer-songwriter Björk as Selma Jezkova, a poor Czech immigrant who lives in a trailer behind the home of an American couple, Bill and Linda Houston (David Morse and Cara Seymour). The Houstons help Selma take care of her troubled son, Gene (Vladica Kostic), seeing him off to school when she has to work.

Selma has an undying love for musicals. She works day after day at a factory where she frequently day dreams, turning the machine noises into music. In between her work and her home life, Selma rehearses for the part of Maria in a small production of “The Sound of Music.”

Alas, tragedy creeps over Selma’s shoulder: She is going blind from a hereditary disease that has passed on to her son. Selma saves all the pay she receives from her job so she can afford an operation for Gene when he is old enough one day.

Selma also has a shy admirer named Jeff (Peter Stormare) and a devoted friend, Cvalda (Catherine Deneuve). As Selma’s eyes progressively grow worse, the condition starts to affect her job performance and eventually leads to an even greater tragedy than the loss of vision that she freely accepts.

“Dancer in the Dark” grows into something extraordinary when we discover that the film itself is a musical. As sad as it all is, Selma’s soaring and melodic songs—all written by Björk, Trier and Icelandic poet Sjón—lend a startling beauty to the film. Björk is an incredible talent in the music industry, and her performance here truly is something special.

Trier has a gift for gathering impressive casts, and in this film he surrounds Björk with a stellar group of actors, including Stormare, Deneuve, Morse, Seymour and Joel Grey, who plays a small put crucial role as a famous Czech actor and performer.

Not everyone who sees Trier’s melancholy musical will buy into the peculiar style. Trier mostly shoots his films hand-held with touches of static camera, and “Dancer in the Dark” is no different. The musical segments are shot with static cameras while Selma’s reality is shot hand-held, an interesting and effective choice.

There is also the musical element that some may find difficult to digest. Selma’s life is so forlorn that she tries to get away from it any way she can. Through creating fantasy musical numbers, she is able to feel uplifted, happy and hopeful, if only for a brief amount of time. The way Trier blends this element into the film takes nerve, but thanks to Björk’s energy and power, both as an actress and a composer, “Dancer in the Dark” soars high before diving low into the despair of Selma’s life.

“Dancer in the Dark” is astonishingly bold. It is equally tragic and beautiful. Selma’s sad life grows sadder by the scene, while Trier and Björk continue to twist and toy with our expectations to create an unlikely, thoroughly original and heartbreaking musical of sacrifice and circumstance.